"No, my friends, I do not believe anything bad has happened to those great scouts," he told his companions. "We will wait for them. They will come."
He had barely finished speaking when one of the Sioux ponies whinnied softly, and a moment afterward they heard a pony scramble up the side of the ravine a short distance to the eastward, and gallop off across the plain.
"Perhaps it is one of our friends," Sun Bird whispered, hopefully.
He crawled to the plain, and imitated the bark of the little gray fox. The Sioux listened anxiously. Many moments passed. There was no response. Then Sun Bird again sounded the familiar signal. Still there was no reply. The Sioux became suspicious. They feared that a hostile scout had blundered upon their hiding place. Sun Bird, however, felt more hopeful. He knew the wariness of the Dacotah scouts, and he still hoped that the mysterious rider was one of his friends. He repeated the sharp, quick bark of the little gray fox, and waited eagerly for a reply. This time he got it. It came from the direction where he had heard the hoofbeats of the retreating pony.
"It is good," said Sun Bird. "That rider is a friend."
A few moments later they heard ponies approaching the ravine. Determined to be prepared for an emergency, the Sioux lay along the top of the ravine, with arrows fitted to their bows, ready to repulse an attack. The precaution proved to be unnecessary, however, as the riders were Feather Dog and Proud Hawk.
"My brothers, you have come—it is good," said Sun Bird.
The scouts who had returned from the eastward said that they had seen nothing of their foes, although they felt quite sure that they had heard several ponies pass them in the darkness. They knew nothing of the thrilling chase which their companions had witnessed from the ravine, and were much interested in the recital.
"Did you see anything of White Otter?" Sun Bird inquired, eagerly.
"No, we did not see any one," replied Feather Dog.